


R.W.I.L.D.H.

by cheweybaclava



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, but Derek didn't know, diaries, like so light its basically not there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 07:17:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8436448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheweybaclava/pseuds/cheweybaclava
Summary: Beautifully etched onto the front, in gorgeous, gold cursive, are the letters,R.W.I.L.D.HDerek squints at the print in confusion, his mind spinning with what it could mean.Reese Witherspoon’s Interesting Life Dies Hourly?Red Wine In Lithuania Does Harm?Rogue Wild Insects Leave Designated Houses?Derek gives in to his curiosity, lets out a sigh, and flips open the book.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay guys, so this is really just a wee cute pic thing. I'm not really sure. Basically, Stiles' has a diary and it's filled with top secret stuff that no one can know about.
> 
> Guess who finds out?
> 
> ***  
> I hope you like it!  
> Unbeta'd. Please feel free to comment any mistakes or shit.

Derek holds the thick, leather bound book in his hands. It’s unlike any book he’s ever found lying on Stiles’ desk. They’re usually laminated school textbooks, or century-old bestiaries loaned from Argent. Once, (to Derek’s misfortune) a porno magazine.

But this book fits squarely into Derek’s palm, the spine laced with amber threading, weaving in and out of the material. It’s more like a diary than an actual book, but one used during older times. There’s a heavy weight to it, as if it’s survived tales worse than Derek can imagine. Stories from the most incredible of people were noted into this parchment, detailing lives more extraordinary than one could even dream about. 

He takes a deep inhale, the scent of dust and magic burning his nose. The pages seem worn, but Derek won’t know until he actually takes a peek inside. Which he would do, if the cover wasn’t stopping him.

Beautifully etched onto the front, in gorgeous, gold cursive, are the letters,

 

**_R.W.I.L.D.H_ **

 

Derek squints at the print in confusion, his mind spinning with what it could mean.

 

 _Reese Witherspoon’s Interesting Life Dies Hourly_?

 

 _Red Wine In Lithuania Does Harm_?

 

 _Rogue Wild Insects Leave Designated Houses_?

 

None of those options make particular sense. It shouldn’t really matter so much. The book doesn’t belong to Derek. Hell, he doesn’t even have the right to read it. He’d just been waiting for Stiles to show up after lacrosse practice, and it had caught his eye.

But there’s something different about this book. Something calling out to Derek. Something that Derek knows he wants to read. 

So before he can change his mind, Derek gives in to his curiosity, lets out a sigh, and flips open the book. 

He was right about the pages. They’re all thin and stained brown, definitely from age. The corners have dog eared, the edges crusting away. But what stops his breath are the words written in black ink on the first sheet of square paper. 

_Reasons Why I Love Derek Hale._

Derek can feel his heartbeat in his ears, his blood rushing through his body. ‘Property of Stiles Stilinski’ is carefully sketched onto the bottom corner of the leather. This is Stiles’ book. This is a book Stiles has written in. This is a book Stiles has called _Reasons Why I Love Derek Hale._ It’s obviously a joke. It has to be.There’s no plausible reason as to why Stiles would own this. 

But on the next page, there’s a list. And on the page after that. And the page after that. A list that goes on, and on, and _on_.

It starts of with a paragraph. And when Derek reads it, a solid lump forms in his throat.

 

_Okay, so I get that this is totally cliche. Like, it would be the perfect thing for a teen rom-com movie. You know, those ones about a girl confessing her love for a guy in a diary, the guy finding it and realising he loves her back, all that rubbish. Well that is never going to happen. Trust me. Mainly, because Derek Hale will never find this book. Never ever. It will stay in the secluded isolation of my desk drawer, only to be removed when I am one hundred percent sure there are no snooping, supernatural werewolves around. And if I somehow forget to hide it in said desk drawer of secluded isolation and Derek Hale happens to discover it and read its PRIVATE contents, then I will surely have died before any mutual love confessions can be made. Oh, and also because Derek Hale does not love me. At all._

_But that doesn’t stop me from loving him! Hopelessly and unrequitedly too. If pining were a crime, I would have multiple life sentences. Alas, I continue to mope after what I don’t have. And will never have._

_So without further ado, I love Derek Hale because of…_

 

  * _His eyes_



 

Derek feels his heart stop. The first reason Stiles put were his eyes. His _eyes_. If this book is going to be a long list of Derek Hale’s attractive features, then he can save himself the time. Derek knows how he looks, he sees the way people appreciatively take him in. And he hates it. Completely hates it. They’re only seeing a shell. They don’t know him, don’t know what he’s like. He could look great, yet be a total asshole on the inside. 

Which is actually true.

But there’s an itch urging Derek to continue reading. It’s nagging him on the inside. It’s telling him, that Stiles is going to be different. Because Stiles has a knack for surprising people. Especially when they’re least expecting it.

 

 

  * _His eye colour_
  * _His eye structure_
  * _His eyes shining in the moonlight_
  * _His eyes totally crying whenever we watch Marley and Me_
  * _His eyes crinkling at the sides when he laughs in the most adorable way possible_
  * _His hair_
  * _How soft his hair is_
  * _The way he smiles when he knows he’s right (even though it’s annoying as fuck)_
  * _The way he smiles when Scott falls over_
  * _The way he smiles when I make a joke and it’s funny enough for him to smile at_
  * _The way he smiles when Isaac brings home strawberry ice-cream (because it’s his favourite, and only I know that)_
  * _The way he smiles when he thinks no one is looking, which is an absolute shame because Derek Hale’s smile is beautiful, and he should want everyone to see it and fall in love with it._



 

Derek’s chest tightens, like someone’s squeezing his insides together and not letting go.

He keeps reading.

 

  * _How unbelievable his facial structure is_
  * _How cute his bunny teeth are_
  * _When he laughs and I feel myself falling because my legs are too weak to hold my body up. Because I know that it’s the most amazing sound I’ve ever heard, and the most amazing sound I’ll ever hear_
  * _The way his forehead furrows up when he’s confused about something, or when he’s thinking if he should do the sudoku first or the crossword first_
  * _The way he rolls his eyes over dramatically_
  * _His killer eyebrows_
  * _His killer stubble (that would definitely leave stubble rash on your chin if he kissed you like crazy, burning all over your skin, but in the best way possible)_
  * _The fact that he’s probably a biter_
  * _The way he could easily hold you up against a wall and fuck you senseless_
  * _How he has werewolf stamina, and could go round after round without tiring_
  * _How he probably loves to cuddle after all those rounds_
  * _How he probably won’t let you breathe when he cuddles you_
  * _How he is most definitely a big spoon_
  * _His body *cue sex noises*_



 

Derek also tries to ignore the fact that he blushes.

 

  * _How glorious his arms are_
  * _How attractive his arms look when he’s doing pushups or pull-ups or whatever the fuck it is he does_
  * _How his arms could hold you close and make you feel safer than you could ever feel in someone’s arms_
  * _How you would never want to leave his hold, because holding Derek Hale and having him hold you back isn’t worth being left for ANYTHING_
  * _How you can count on him to make you feel like you have a place in his life_
  * _The way he shows his affection by being grumpy and growly, but the underlying layer of love is still there_
  * _How he gives advice to Isaac, as if they’re not just roommates or pack, but as if they’re family_
  * _How he treats everyone in his pack like they’re family_
  * _How you know he would put his family in front of everything and everyone_
  * _How even though he says he doesn’t have a favourite, he still offers Boyd the popcorn first_
  * _How he knows that I don’t like sweet and makes an extra bowl of salted only for me_
  * _They way he looks at you, like you hung the moon and stars just for him_
  * _The way he takes your breath away when he looks at you_
  * _His loyalty_
  * _His resilience not to murder Scott when he’s being especially naive_
  * _How he’s stopped pushing you down, and started pulling you up_
  * _The way he doesn’t make me feel weak as a human, but powerful as an individual_



 

Derek growls without realising. Stiles isn’t weak. He’s strong - stronger than any other member of the pack. Physical ability has never stopped him from running with them, not the way it would a regular human.

 

  * _His love for gameshows_
  * _His love for throw pillows_
  * _His love for pinball_
  * _His love for apple juice_
  * _His love for classic novels_
  * _How he sometimes lets me borrow some of his novels_
  * _How he discusses them with me afterwards_
  * _How it’s the rare time I feel that maybe he doesn’t find me utterly irritating and annoying_
  * _How he listens to me_
  * _The way he understands what it’s like to lose someone_
  * _The way he talks about his family with me, when I know that he doesn’t talk about them with anyone_
  * _How he has enough trust in me to share memories that are so incredibly private_
  * _How I feel the same about him_



 

Derek needs to put down the book for a moment, and compose himself. His head’s spinning, his chest feeling contracted with every rasp he manages. 

No one has ever spoken about him like this. Gone into such _detail_ on his life. Derek knows Stiles. He gets that the kid’s full of hormones and constantly horny. He’d understand if this book were just a book of complete sonnets on Derek’s looks. But it’s more than that.

It’s _him_. It’s Derek. It’s the Derek that he's never really allowed to return after the fire. The Derek that he likes to keep buried below the rest of rubble and ashes. That Derek was vulnerable. He was easily manipulated. He let the first girl who batted her eyes at him into his life, and in return she burnt his family alive. 

Now there’s Stiles. Skinny, defences Stiles. Who sees him in a different light. Who cajoles and teases him, yet worms under his skin. He’s made himself part of Derek, without anyone even realises. He’s in too deep to get out.

Derek doesn’t know whether to not that’s a good thing.

 

He picks the book up, and skims though the pages. There’re dozens and dozens. Randomly stopping at a section in the middle, Derek continues to read.

 

  * _The way he doesn’t care about what happens to himself, as long as everyone else is okay_
  * _How he thinks with his fists instead of his brain (which isn’t necessarily a good thing)_
  * _How he’ll charge into battle completely unprepared_
  * _And_ _un_ _surprisingly gets beaten bloody_
  * _But he still doesn’t care, and will carry on until he passes out_
  * _How the minute he wakes up, he’ll ask of everyone else is alright_
  * _The way his face literally lights up when you tell him ‘yes’_
  * _How you see his remorse and immediate regret if you say ‘no’_
  * _How he won’t leave that person’s side until they’ve full recovered_
  * _How it’s mostly me who gets injured_
  * _And how he’ll never leave my side until I’ve fully recovered_
  * _How I know that if something were to happen, he wouldn’t stop_



 

“What are you doing?”

 

Derek’s head jerks up, and he quickly snaps the book shut. Stiles is standing in the doorway, mouth hanging open and face turning the brightest shade of red Derek has ever seen. His eyes are  comically wide, unblinking, and trained right on the book in Derek’s hand.

“W-where did you get that?” Stiles stammers.

Derek stays silent for a moment, then gulps and replies.

“I found it on your desk,” Derek admits quietly, voice so low he’s surprised Stiles has even heard him. But with the way Stiles darts up to look at him, face a picture of embarrassment, surprise, anger, and possible grief, Derek knows he most definitely did.

“A-and you, you _opened it_?” Stiles’ voice travels slightly higher, nearing the verge of hysterics. His breath is coming out unevenly, erratically, and Derek can heart his heartbeat jackrabbiting in in chest. He wants to hold Stiles, tell him to calm down, tell him to sit down and breathe properly.

Instead he just nods mutely.

“Did you read it?” Stiles asks, wincing as if the question alone causes him extreme pain.

“Yeah,” Derek whispers, praying to a God that Stiles isn’t going to pass out. From the looks of it, (and the way Stiles is shaking like an uncontrollable chihuahua) the Gods probably have something against him.

“Oh shit,” Stiles chokes out, “Oh shit _shit shit shit, fuck Derek_ ,” he rambles, feet unsteadily moving towards Derek, “Derek, Derek I am so _so_ sorry. I honest to God swear that I _never_ meant for you to find that. I promise, I mean I don’t even know why it was out there. I must’ve forgot to put it away last night. Not that I was reading it last night!” Stiles exclaims, arms flailing, “Actually, no, that’s a lie. Which you could probably hear. Yeah, okay, So maybe I was reading it last night. But only because I hadn’t read it in ages. No, that’s also a lie,” 

Derek tries to hide his smirk, “Stiles,” he interrupts, but the boy just keeps on going. 

“I read it all the time. That probably makes me sound really sad, pathetic and desperate. Which you already knew though, so I guess it’s okay. You probably didn’t think I wrote about you in my spare time though, did you? Oh, shit, shit, _fuck_ ,” Stiles is starting to sweat, and Derek knows he needs to interfere before Stiles goes over the edge.

“ _Stiles_ ,” Derek tries again, only to be ignored.

Hastily, Stiles swipes at his forehead, and continues babbling, “I mean, I get if you never want to talk to me again. Like, I totally get it. I wouldn’t want to take to me either. I’m surprised you haven’t killed me yet. Maybe you’re waiting for a good enough moment? Oh shit, you totally are. This is going to be just like the Shining isn’s it? Fuck, you’ll probably break though my door when I’m sleeping or something. Not that I blame you. Just maybe give me a heads up or something. I wouldn’t want to you to slice of my dick whilst I’m unconscious-”

 

“ _Stiles_!” Derek grabs his wrists, and Stiles stops mid-sentence. He looks up at him, pupils blown wide, mouth slightly parted, lips bitten and red and oh shit, Derek just wants to kiss him until they’re raw. He can feel his heart pounding, but in what can only be described as the best way possible. He feels weightless, like he could float right out of the room. There’s a happiness in him that Derek didn’t even know existed.

And it’s because of Stiles. All because of Stiles.

Stiles. Stiles’ words, and his lists, and his insane mind that Derek loves so much. He loves it. He loves _Stiles._ Derek loves Stiles. 

Oh God, it’s the best feeling ever. He tracks the movement of Stiles throat, pale and bared out to him, offering himself without even realising it.

Derek leans in, until he’s inches away from Stiles, until he can smell the mint and coffee on his tongue, until he can smell the enticement, fear, and _arousal_ of his scent. It’s delicious, it’s intoxicating. He wants it all. He wants all of Stiles. Every single piece of him.

“Apparently,” Derek purrs, Stiles’ breath ghosting over his skin, “You think I love to cuddle after sex,”

Stiles gulps, and he gives a shaky nod of his head.

“I also love gameshows,” Derek continues, “And classic novels,”

“Jane Austen,” Stiles mumbles, casting his eyes down.

“What?”

“You particularly love Jane Austen,” he glances back up, “I know because I’ve seen the amount of books you own on your self,”

“What else do you know about me?”

“I know that you always take your coffee black, and that you love Frank Sinatra because your parents danced to him at they’re wedding. I know that you say you hate older, punk-rock artists, but that’s only because Laura used to listen to them, and the songs remind you of her. I know that you’re not a morning person, and you lie in as long as it takes for Isaac to yank you out of bed. I know that you don’t trust Peter, but you still want him around during Thanksgiving, because he’s only one who can make pumpkin pie like your mom. And I know that you’d risk your life for anyone in the pack, because you think that we wouldn’t all completely collapse without you, even though you are so far from right, you’re left,”

 

Derek blinks, then dives in and captures Stiles’ mouth in a kiss. One soft, sweet, but with so much emotion and feeling he feels he’s going to burst. Stiles gives an undignified squawk when he does so, but hardly hesitates to wrap his arms around Derek’s neck and kiss him back. 

It’s beautiful, it’s glorious. It’s something Derek never knew he wanted, but now can’t imagine not having. It’s relief from years of angst and guilt. It’s a sign saying he’s okay.

It’s Stiles. 

And it’s all Derek could want.

 

They break apart, Stiles panting into Derek’s mouth. He peers up at him, confusion written all over his face.

“So, you’re _not_ gonna kill me?” Stiles queries.

And Derek- Derek laughs. He laughs, and it feels so good that he has to head back in and kiss Stiles again. Stiles holds him close, hands gripping his shirt. Their teeth clank, but it’s probably because Derek’s smiling. He’s smiling into the kiss, because it’s perfect. It’s so perfect and Derek could never ask for more.

“I’m pretty sure I read something,” Derek mumbles into the kiss, “About me holding you up a wall and fucking you senseless,”

 

***

 

“So,” Stiles grins, tracing a pattern on Derek’s bare chest, “That proved my werewolf stamina theory true,”

“It did,” Derek replies, watching Stiles. They’re both very naked under the duvet, and Derek has never seen Stiles look more beautiful. His chest marked, his hair tousled, his eyes glimmering amber and bright, propped up on an elbow looking at Derek like they’ve been doing this for years.

“You-you’re really not mad?” Stiles asks, biting his lip.

“I’m mad,” Derek pushes himself up until he’s only a short distance away from Stiles’ mouth, “That we started this after so long,”

“Two years isn’t _that_ long,” Stiles scoffs.

“It was long enough,” Derek mutters, tipping his head down and pressing a kiss to Stiles’ neck. Stiles sighs, letting his hand reach over and toy with the nape of Derek’s neck. Derek's teeth work a mark there, dark and prominent, letting people know that Stiles is his. His lips travel up, nipping and swiping at Stiles' skin, until he finds his lips. Derek feels his eyes flash red behind their lids when Stiles' whines into the kiss, opening and licking into his mouth. Stiles responds just as eagerly, and for the next few minutes the only sounds heard are breathy moans and the occasional low growl from Derek. Eventually Stiles pulls back, panting sightly, a hand resting gently on Derek's chest. 

“Are you sure this is okay?” He mumbles against Derek’s lips, eyes low and hooded.

Derek answer by pulling Stiles closer, until any space once left between them is replaced by their flushed bodies pressed together.

 

And it’s okay. Of course it’s okay. 

It’s Stiles. Derek loves him. He loves him so much.

 

One couldn’t even begin to list the reasons why Derek loves Stiles Stilinski.

 

***

 

_I love Derek Hale._

_And Derek Hale loves me back._

**Author's Note:**

> ....................  
>  Yah or nah?  
> Idk  
> The comment box is always open! Kudos welcome too ;))))
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [ Come and tumble with me fren](http://rogue-wizard.tumblr.com)


End file.
